The Lost Chastity Key

The classic worry of a chastity slave losing his or her key is common, but what happens when this becomes real and the key is nowhere to be found?

Well, my sissy Steph and I found out exactly what happens when we session on Saturday night! Let me tell you the build up to this first….

The evening started with me telling my pet sissy that she would need to take a nice hard spanking and the cane for me, then I sent her off to change. When she returned she was wearing a beautiful baby pink, satin dress with white frills on the sleeves, collar and hem. Underneath her many thrills, a candy pink chastity cage kept her little clit and balls under lock and key. Of course, she was wearing The Vice, one of the strongest, most durable cages that exist!

She looked so cute that it almost persuaded me to go a little more gently on her. Of course, almost is the operative word in this sentence, and just as quickly I changed my mind and decided to give her the works.

With my sissy bent over, ruffles surrounding her pale bottom, I delivered some stinging slaps until her cheeks were pink. Every now and then, she would squeak ‘Ow’ which had me giggling and spanking her harder. The pale white flesh of her bottom is very pleasurable to spank as it shows up every slap and swipe. I could see a blend of soft, dusky pinks and darker, more angry streaks of crimson red. When I fetched the cane, Steph was visibly trembling by this point. Her buttocks were akin to a delicious, wobbling strawberry trifle, waiting to be plunged into and attacked with my canes. The first cane was a traditional schoolmaster cane with a curved tip. One always feels extremely old school brandishing one of these and it makes such a wonderful whooshing sound as it slices through the air and THWACKS down hard onto a meaty rump. Just six swipes of the cane were enough to coax some wonderful red welts to bubble across my sissies flesh. I ran my finger across them and felt that the skin had raised and felt plump and swollen.

I then used a leather-wrapped cane on sissy’s posterior. It’s a much longer cane and thinner for a more intense sting. Three of these had sissy yelping!

Whilst my sissy is an absolute pro in strap-on play and chastity, she was a virgin to the cane and I could see that she was reaching her limit.

I always save the best for last, so I drew out the dressage crop. An extremely thin, black whip which has a tailed end that savagely bites into the flesh on impact, taking some of the top skin cells with it! On the first stroke, sissy uttered a cry and shuddered. “Oh my goodness that one is more intense!” she cried. I smiled, knowing her words to be true and gently told her, “just two more, be brave now my good girl.”

My sissy braced herself and I thrashed the whip across the backside once more. The fronds at the end of the whip grabbed hold of her flesh as they flicked past, causing an angry rash to arise where she had been struck.

I could tell she was dreading the final stroke and I lingered, allowing her to take a deep breath. This time I swung the crop higher and harder. The last stroke should always count and leave a small memento behind on the slave’s bottom.

We both inspected her bottom and were mutually satisfied to see a beautiful lattice of pink blobs and spatterings and red welts. For a short moment, I contemplated playing a game of hangman on the crisscrosses on her bottom, but I was eager to push her limits in other ways, so stored the thought away for another day.

The session went swimmingly and it was time for my sissy to finally experience the electrics. For this I would need to remove her chastity cage, only when I popped in the key to unlock her, it was not the right key. It looked like the right key, felt like the right key, but the right key it was not. I opened my pink unicorn box and took out my key collection. Alas, it seemed that none of them would fit.

I have teased Steph many times about this in the past and pretended to misplace the key, so she assumed I was joking and playing a prank on her. Only when she saw my expression she realised that this was a serious matter, and I saw panic flash in her eyes.

In the past when we had sessioned, I remembered that Steph’s cage had been yanked off with a rope by another domme. I suggested we oil her up with baby oil and try sliding her out of the cage. I applied baby oil liberally to the cage and soon Steph was extremely slippery, and so were my fingers but the cage was still holding on fast.

“Perhaps if I squeeze my balls through,” Steph suggested. I nodded in agreement and the cage budged ever so slightly, then refused to move another millimetre! Her ball was stuck in the wrong position in the cage and was very quickly starting to swell.

Steph was now very pink in the face, looking flustered and her breathing became more ragged as the panic rose in her. I couldn’t help but giggle! My sissy was panicking and pulling at the cage, the way a claustrophobic might bang on the lift doors during a power failure. It was futile. The cage was stuck and it was not to be shifted. After giggling to myself for a moment, I could see that sissy was becoming a little distressed and I concluded that I would need to put her out of her misery soon.

“In the American movies, they always manage to pick the locks,” I mused, “let me try this safety pin.

I inserted the pin into the lock and wriggled and twisted it to no avail. I tried this with various safety pins, with the same result.

Pondering for a moment, I decided that I wasn’t using the right tool for the job. I sifted through my make-up bag and pulled out a hairpin.

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen this in loads of spy movies,” I soothed, with conviction.

Over the years, the likes of Bruce Willis, Jason Statham and friends have taught me that every secret agent or person bound by handcuffs, merely need a humble hairpin to resolve the situation!

Of course, it was full on bravado and I did not really expect it to work, but I was curious now and eager to put it to the test. I twisted the hairpin into an L shape as I have seen the Hollywood stars do, then tentatively I inserted it into the lock. I twisted left and right and nothing happened. I rotated the pin, I jiggled and made some impressive hand movements that were designed to say, “Don’t worry, I have done this before!”

I could almost feel the heat radiating offer her and I could sense she was holding her breath, hoping that her Mistress would find a way.

Steph was no closer to being free, of her cage, but I was not giving up! I pushed the pin towards the top of the lock and swivelled it and then to my surprise – CLICK – it opened!

“It’s unlocked!” I sang happily as if I knew it would work all along.

“Really, are you sure Mistress?” Steph gasped, thinking I was teasing her again. Her eyes shone with fear and hope, longing for my words to be true.

I pulled the pin out of the lock and removed it from her cage. I don’t think I have ever seen such a relieved sissy! With oily, shaking hands, she removed the rest of the device from her now swollen clit and balls! I stood back with a sense of satisfaction and with a wink, declared, “I can now add ‘master locksmith’ and ‘cage breaker’ to my CV!”

Steph chuckled heartily, happy for her ball to be freed from its torment and the vice-like grip of the cage’s eager jaws.  It was a moment of triumph and we were both delighted.

Of course, shortly afterwards when I assembled the electric cock loops on sissy’s nethers and started to turn up the voltage, I could sense that she was suddenly wishing that she were back in the safe confines of her chastity cage.

It was certainly a moment of jumping from the frying pan into the fire for my sissy, who looked at me with a look of shock on her face. I soon put an end to that by sitting on her face. After all, they say ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ and unable to see Steph’s worried face, I ramped the voltage up higher, pushing my mesh-clad buttocks into her face to drown out her squeals.

After the session, we decided to have a little fun and Steph did the hot dog challenge for her twitter followers. The challenge was to see how many hot dogs she could fit into her mouth. Number one went in easily, and it was soon followed by two, three and four. She shifted the hot dogs around to accommodate 5 and 6. 7 needed a slight push and at 8, I could see Steph was struggling. I was expecting her to stop there, so gave her a nod of encouragement.

The thing about Steph and what makes her such a wonderful sub is that she does not give up easily and will always go the extra mile to entertain and please. In quick succession, she added dogs 9 and 10, then grimacing and stretching her lips wider, hotdog number 11 was wedged in. She was looking a little pink now and slightly sick of hot dogs. I watched expectantly, would she stop? Had she reached her limit? Steph surprised me by somehow rotating the sausages and fitting a final length of sausage in there, making 12 large hot dogs between her pink, glossy lips. They dangled from her mouth, flopping around which made her resemble something out of one of the Alien movies. I was dying with laughter and struggling to keep my cool behind the camera!

“Mmmf mmmf!” she mumbled, looking very pleased with herself.

I was inclined to agree, I think she had reached her limit! Proud as punch of my fledgeling cum gifted sissy, I nodded with approval and gave her the thumbs up! It seems we had both excelled ourselves that evening!

Eventually, after a fun evening of fetish, it was time to go back to our PJ’s, go home and dream of kinky things!

About ten minutes after my sissy had left, I had to retrieve a wriggling kitten from the wastepaper basket, who was sniffing out the hot dogs and looking like all her Christmas’s had come at once! Unfortunately for my Tabby Fiji, I was not prepared to let her do the hot dog challenge. Left to her own devices, Fij would probably eat about 72 of them and then throw up all over the carpet, or on my pillow!

Anyway, that leaves me wondering, have any of you done the hot dog challenge? How many do you think you could fit? I’m intrigued to know!